The Punch Temp
by Rothalion
Summary: Alexander reflects upon Hephaistion's lonliness the night before his wedding to Roxane. Deals with the Cleitus ' punch to Hephaiston and how Alexander can't aid in his friends plight. Chapter one with more to follow.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Shadow Boxing (previously The Punch)

Author: Rothalion

E-mail: 

Universe: Alexander the movie

Pairing: Alexander and Hephaistion

Rating: PG-17 for safety. Rape and violence

Summery: An extension of the scene in the movie during the pre-wedding banquet where Cleitus punches Hephaistion. Begins with Alexander thinking about Hephaistion and feeling trapped by his duty. Still tackling their voices so this is a bit rough.Title change, this waspreviously The Punch. Also two minor flow changes within the text.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Just borrowing them for a bit.

Rating: PG-17 for safety

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all besides Hephaistion who could?

Chapter One The Punch

Often when this wild and gone rampant dream of ours to rule all of Asia leaves me feeling alone; I turn my thoughts aside instead, and grieve for my poor Hephaiston. Hephaiston. My beautiful and ever loyal Hephaistion. He is by and far the loneliest man in our new and growing kingdom. Yes, Hephaistion.

No longer do we dally in Pella two youths drunk on the dreams of kingships and conquering. Dreams of not just following but of out pacing the footsteps of our heroes. No, we are, sadly enough, men now. Men hurtling along on this unfettered chariot ride called conquering Asia. It is this blind and unstoppable passion to succeed that ultimately and far more often than either of us would like forces us apart. At Pella we were seldom separate for long. Days maybe, but for eight or so years it was always Alexander and Hephaistion together.

I recall, with an ache still fresh in my chest, the first time, as his King, I'd sent him away. It had to be so, he would not willing leave me for so long otherwise. When I tried to send him away as simply his 'friend' he refused, thinking I mistrusted 'him'. He worried for me, he pleaded that I send another. He feared my mother's words, that I'd succumbed to them. So I had to 'order' him away from me on that lengthy and dangerous mission. The look in his sky blue eyes held fear and longing, despair; maybe hurt and yet also, in the end, they showed courage to do what I'd asked of him, to fulfill his duty despite the pain and fear our parting inflicted. Thinking of that moment still threatens to bring tears to my now far too often dry eyes. Am I becoming a desert? Have we indeed traveled too far from Aristotle's "frog pond" ? Ah, how we'd clung to each other that last night together. Like two fools scaling the heights of Mt. Olympus. Our fingers clinging to any and every hand hold we could find in a futile attempt to escape the inevitable plummet into the bloody bowels of kingship my father had so stridently warned me about. I was, for the first time, hurting someone I loved. Not just anyone but Hephaistion.

I push the troubling thought aside and smile when I see one of the many beautiful dancers sidle up to Hephaistion and rub her tall, lithe, naked body sinuously around his in time to the throbbing music. Her hands slipping into places that only I know and probably giving him, shy one that he is, a fright more complete than that which he might feel in the throng of battle. Ah, Hephaistion, ever so true. Ever so true. I shake my head as he finally manages to gently push her away, his eyes darting slyly around like a man who has tripped up a step then wonders if anyone saw him falter. To my right, not unexpectedly, I notice Ptolemy pointing at the poor dazed man and laughing so hard that he's spilling his wine. It is apparent that he'd put the girl up to it. Oh, why do they try my poor, lonely Hephaistion so? He is not weak, he is not afraid. He simply exists. He knows and stoically keeps his place. He is like my shadow and like Bucephalus was, these foolish comrades of ours are so frightened of this shadow, that they continue to rear up against its presence. But being that they are ignorant men nothing Hephaistion or I do or say can turn them from the sun and they remain afraid and blinded to our love. Hephaistion is always and will always be at my side. Although very often voiceless and quite alone, and so isolated in a place that none of the other core Companions can ever know, enter, or presume to understand, my heart, he is me. He shares my heart.

The scene ends bringing me back again to our loneliness when we are parted. I often wonder if he seeks comfort in another when he is away. I do not. While I've been close to indulging myself I stayed strong and loyal to Hephaistion. It's odd that despite being King of this new Asia and after so many long years together I've never actually asked him. I do not possess the courage to pose the question, though to his credit he has asked me. In most things between us he is the initiator the aggressor, so sure of himself; yet he is also so tragically insecure. He is a person of absolutes, my Hephaistion is. Hephaistion, get me supplies, and he does. Build me a bridge and he does. Find me a pass and he does. Hold me Phai, I'm so lost in my dream, our dream and he does. Love me… And yes, he of course does in a way that regardless of my limited experience I know that none other could. That 'is' Hephaistion and I think I've simply always felt that I was his absolute and only source of comfort, all comfort. Warmth in a cold bed, soothing hands on battered, battle weary muscles, the quelling of desires drawn from the depths of our souls. Comfort. Love. Only us. Only this comfort between 'us'. A vain thought but non the less true. We both know that like the sun that faithfully rises, I will have to provide an heir, lest that sun, so threateningly overlooking my kingdom sets; thrusting all we've struggled for, leaderless into absolute and chaotic darkness. We both know this and we avoid the pain of scratching and picking, with sorrowful chatter, at the thick scab we've very carefully knitted over a wound already so cruelly inflicted upon us by simply knowing that the day, like the morrow, 'will' come. Has come, and in only a few days time he will have to share me with another.

Ah, gods Hephaistion! A part of me, the part of me that loves him hopes he can find some comfort when away from me. It is though, the wish of an incorrigible pretender; because before that spark-like hope for his happiness can even begin to flicker and be brought to full flame; juvenile jealousy extinguishes it with a blast, like one from the bellows of Hephaestus' sacred forge. It shames me to feel this way, this jealousy. Oh, Hephaistion, forgive me. I shudder. My jealousy made even more shameful knowing that tomorrow I will marry. A marriage that for all intent will not provide a legitimate heir. A union that will not insure the one and only reason that we do not tear at our scab. Ah, Hera, he is, tonight, so far from me. Yet still I feel his pain so acutely. So closely bound are our souls.

So I sit here watching him standing off on the periphery just as always. He's never really been a part of the inner circle of us, of my Companions. Lesser by birth alone and even farther distanced by his relationship with me. Only Ptolemy and maybe Craterus really treat him as a friend, the others to a man, blind with their childish jealousies work hard even after so many years to keep him on the outside; not letting him or me forget what we are to one another. May they, for all that I love them like brothers, rot in Hades for their foolish disdain! Can't they see how hard he works for everything! Fools! Sighing I note how striking he is in his eastern pants and longish tunic. Like me he retains the thirst that Aristotle instilled in us, the thirst for learning and trying new and foreign things. Anything from clothes to philosophy to well… he is a bit reticent about strange foods. Always on the edge of things is my Hephaistion. Watching. Watching with that open, glad face, blue eyes bright and his lips slightly curled in a small bit of a smile. He stands tall and straight despite the fact that he knows many of these men present at this banquet tonight are telling jokes and passing vile remarks at his expense.

I have even caught wind of some of their cruel gossip, so careless are these narrow minded fools in their contempt and jealousy of our love and commitment to one another that their tongues wag too loosely. One of the kinder remarks stated that Hephaistion would now, after having been tossed from my bed by a native, have to sleep on the floor with my hound. Little do they know and though I would never ask it, that he would if I did as would I for him. Such is our love. I asked him to come tonight, but allowed him the option of refusing. Typical of Hephaistion he appeared, for me, despite the pain I knew that pretending to celebrate my coming wedding would cause him.

So there he stands so straight and tall and I'm afraid quite alone. His cup clenched in his right fist; still full I'm sure. Hephaistion's never been one to indulge in drink. Now and again I can shame him into letting go and allowing himself a good drunk but not often. I wish that tonight this vile duty did not bind my hands and that I could rush to him and do just that. Pushing aside a drunken soldier trying to congratulate me on my nuptials I recalled with a grim smile the last time Hephaistion had gotten drunk. Really drunk. My gut stirred restlessly, wantonly at the memory.

It had begun as a simple round up of bothersome dissidents on a rain and fog shrouded morning. He'd begged me to stay behind because he'd had an ominous dream. A nightmare actually, the night before and the foray after all was quite basic. I truly was not needed. Find them and kill them. Ironically, breaking our normal pre-battle routine he'd stayed with me that night and I awoke to his terrified screams. Hephaiston for all his strengths and the logical, sensible man that he is, reverts to being a frightened child when asleep. I might pace the land like a starved and tormented lion by day but at night I sleep as though I've died. How many times has he awakened me, in a panic, just to be sure that my sleeping heart still beats within my chest, so still do I become in bed. Not Hephaistion. Where he is still and quiet, like a hungry frog waiting for the fly to come near, by day; he is twice tormented in his sleep by night. Plagued since boyhood by his terrors and nightmares. How many bruises have I suffered because of his senseless dream driven thrashings? True to my nature the more he insisted that I remain in camp the more I demanded that I go along.

We could not see. The foul mist was like a damp smothering veil draped across the valley. A tiresome drizzle pelted us within the gray fog and as dank, cold wetness has a want to do it clouded our judgment. We were ambushed by a force twice as large as we'd expected and our line was broken and divided. The short of it is this. My white feather plumed helmet had been knocked from my head and I was knocked from my horse. We'd planned the plumes early on he and I. Great white ones for me and black for him. Beacons to guide us to one another in battle. My helmet gone Hephaistion quickly lost sight of me in the fog locked skirmish. After subduing the enemy I returned to our camp only to find that Hephaistion had not. I was merely worried until one of his officers finally came dragging in late that night with the company and said that they had become lost in the fog after getting again ambushed and that Hephaistion, alone, was still trying to find me before coming in. The man was adamant that he'd begged Hephaistion to just return to camp but the stubborn fool, somehow out of his head from wounds and worry stayed to search the fog cloaked battle field trying to find me before racing home. Only Ptolemy and Cleitus' calming words kept me from rushing into the black of night in search of him.

After a sleepless night the sound of drumming hooves brought me from my tent around mid day. Hephaiston. He loved his horses, probably too much; and he'd ridden this one, a beautiful gray, to death in search of me. The animal was lathered in white foamy sweat and shaking. He jumped from it's back, my lost helm in his shaking hands, as the poor beast collapsed, and to my dismay Hephaistion collapsed in a bloody heap at my knees along with it. That night, despite his exhaustion, he drank himself blind. Whether from joy or relief at finding me safely in camp, or just simply being glad to be alive himself I'm not sure. All I know is that I had a very drunk, very aggressive, and very affectionate Hephaistion on my hands and I swore to never again allow him to get so far gone with drink. He was Dionysos and Aphrodite and Eros combined driven mad by Phoebus himself. His fear of losing me, of losing us was, I think, the main source of the energy driving his passion, pushing him beyond his pain and exhaustion. My back, and shoulders two long years later, still bare the scars of his uncontrolled passion on that night and I can still feel the terrifying, great strength of his long arms clamping me in an embrace so tight that my breath was choked off. So much so that while I felt his love and need for me I also feared for my life. Which isn't to say he's not capable of strong emotions without wine, only that on that night he was simply lost in his emotions and thrust frighteningly far beyond sense and reason. I guess that is the way with those who seldom allow themselves the release of wine. When they do it is like opening the door during a wind storm. All forms of reason, like the papers on a desk fly about wildly.

My attention was drawn away from Hephaistion for a bit as I fielded questions and congratulations from a group of Persian nobles. How tedious this whole diplomacy bit was becoming. Fighting was one thing but this continual smiling and nodding in appreciation to kind words was enough to cause a man like me to envy Prometheus' fate. My only thoughts were for Hephaistion. After tomorrow I would be busy with the sorrowful task of making an heir and I wanted to steal as much time as I could watching him, soaking up picture of him. Drinking him in like a blossom thirsty for fresh raindrops after a dry spell. I managed to rid myself of the lice like creatures in time to see Cleitus step into the hall through a door just behind Hephaistion. The man was very drunk and even at this distance I could tell he was, still hours after the council meeting, very angry. It worried me because I had learned as a small boy that an angry, drunk Cleitus was a fearsome thing. He'd not taken the news of my upcoming wedding happily and his dark demeanor during the council meeting had not been lost to me. Neither had the black threatening glances he'd thrown toward Hephaistion. I'd questioned Ptolemy about Cleitus' focus on Hephaistion but the man had no more of a clue than I did as to it's cause. The two did not get along as a rule but the anger in Cleitus' eyes earlier in the day was more than the normal anger and it troubled me. It somehow reminded me of my mother.

As I craned my neck to the left to peer around yet another well wisher Cleitus bumped into Hephaiston as he walked by. The bump was obviously intentional. Hephaistion, still smiling, had very uncharacteristically let his guard down and playfully shoved Cleitus back. I leaned to my right to again get a clear view just in time to see Cleitus punch Hephaistion squarely in the face. Hephaistion is tall and strong yet thin and lean like a willow tree. Cleitus though is this thick and gnarled like an old oak that has survived years and years of raging storms and his punch is like that of oxen's kick. Hephaistion, hit unexpectedly, didn't stand a chance. I jumped to my feet and watched incredulously as Phai stood up doggedly only to be driven back down by a second vicious punch before he could gain his senses. I saw Ptolemy moving quickly toward them and forced myself to stay put even as I watched Cleitus kick Hephaistion wickedly in the stomach and face over and over again before Ptolemy reached them. I wanted to rush to his aid but I knew that I could not. Yes, Hephaistion could aid me in a confrontation with a fellow Companion but were I to help him…it would tip the already unbalanced scales and feed the always carefully stoked fire fueled by the resentment surrounding our relationship and his standing in my court. Besides he would loose face before his unfriendly power starved peers, who in reality were his superiors in class. When it came to this, no matter how much it tore at my heart, Hephaistion had to stand alone. We both knew and understood the reason behind it but that didn't take the pain away. Ptolemy managed to send Cleitus away and a couple of guards helped him remove a barely conscious Hephaistion from the hall.

Moments later Ptolemy was at my side still seething in anger telling me that a very stubborn Hephaistion had waved them off and was returning to his room and that although he was dazed, bloodied and sore he was alright. I was glad that he was not inclined to go after Cleitus, there were times that I felt as thought I had not one but two Bucephalus'. Phai could be quite difficult when he had his mind set upon something. Stubborn didn't due justice to his bullheadedness. It was beyond that. I read the pity in Ptolemy's eyes though he tried he tried to keep it hidden. Ptolemy was the only one of our Mieza group who truly understood Hephaistion and I. He'd never questioned our bond. He took it as a given; as some sort of gift. Like Prometheus' gift to man, of fire. Without fire man would have been lost, as would I have been lost and useless without Hephaistion. Ptolemy knew this to be true and supported us. He grasped my shaking shoulder and stilled me with a calming smile. Cleitus glared angrily at me from not far away. As the young but ever wise Ptolemy told me, he was certain that Cleitus had hoped that I'd jump in to help Hephaistion causing a huge brawl, and he reassured me that I'd made the correct decision in holding back. Once again, hurting the one I love in order to sit a throne.

The night grew old and trapped again in mindless platitudes I never noticed Cleitus and his cronies slipping away. I normally welcomed conversation but this night seemed only full of thank you's spoken in various languages. I wanted only to go to Hephaistion, this was our last night…and not being able to I drank to kill the pain in my heart. He was hurt, and I could sense it, even through the fog of wine induced numbness I could sense his agony and sadness. Duty. What a slave it makes us. Ah, father, ah, mother how right you were. If this is indeed my fate then already the price is far, far too high. How could I have been so blinded by base ambition and childhood dreams? He needs me! Yet here I sit drunk; with a naked dancing girl across my lap, wine dripping down my smile stretched face and a nearly uncontrollable urge to quench the unbidden fire burning in my loins within her welcoming body. I felt ill when I rationalized this urge with the reason that before tomorrows consummation of my marriage, perhaps I should have a bit of practice with this other sex. Oh, Father I suppose that you are loving me now!

I see a sort of vision then. Maybe I am dozing off, simply dreaming and yet…I see myself and Philp combined as one, like, like an abomination, a mutation. My body with his head, taking this dancing girl violently and brutally. Raping her. I then watch helplessly as he drives my body forward and desecrates my temple. 'My' temple that is Hephaistion. His head joining his own twisted body; joining with my mother who is wrapped round his neck and round his torso as a snake culminating at the end of his penis, her face leering at me from there, still they are controlling me, and they hold me frozen as together they rape my Hephaistion again and again and again as I stand mute and impotent unable to stop it. I feel like a statue once snow white but now painted red in my love's blood. I am like that. Bloodied. Yes, that is what I now am… a blood stained statue of Achilles, who 'was' once so powerful yet now he is 'only' a statue. I'm stuck stock still, trapped in this marble tomb of my ambition leaving me unable to go to Hephaistion's side. Unable to love only him. Shattered now by the truth of kingship into a spray of shards by the very hammer of my egotistical dream. I heard myself scream. Hephaistion!

Ptolemy was before me now and the girl was gone. I heard him tell me the night was over; to go to bed, and let the curse of Philip's indiscretions stay buried, that it was a bad omen to dream them. I felt slick with my own sweat and weak with fear and confusion. I could tell by the way he looked at me that I was showing my weakness, so I jutted out my chin, tossed my damp golden hair from my face and grinned a drunken grin before rising to head to my chambers. Philip? What had I babbled in my drunken stupor? I recalled the dream completely with all it's unpleasantness. Ah, my poor Hephaistion if that is what a nightmare is then my heart is heavy for you. I'd never understood how a dream could cause you such terror. I will pray that the gods allow you a far more gentle sleep. Shaken, I stood, and still too drunk to go and care for my beloved friend I allowed myself to be carted off to bed.


	2. Hephaistions Pain

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing (Formally The Punch, sorry for the confusion but I had no firm title when I first posted)

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion. Movie driven. First ATG fan fic. Movie based I suppose. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned. Switching here to Hephaiston POV for a bit. Pov changes will be noted.

Rating: PG-17 for safety

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all besides Hephaistion who could?

Chapter Two-Hephaiston's pain

Why am I so cold? Why is it so dark? I feel the thick slick, tackiness of blood on my hands. My hands? I try to focus through the pain marshaling my body and eyes that are swollen mostly shut. Cleitus? Some thing about Cleitus? Gods he is…my thought slips away as the gossamer clouds veiling the bright moon allow its light to be thrown down upon me. I can not stop the painful gasp that steals from my mouth when I see that this is no battle field. That I am not surrounded by the mangled remains of the enemy as I'd expected. This thick blood is mine and I am, to my horror covered in it. My face, my hands, my arms, my legs. Cleitus.

I start to shiver violently. My clothes are gone. My brain screams at me to rise and go back, back? Where is back? Where is here? I scream, through bloodied lips, despite myself as a large rat runs straight up to me and onto my bloody stomach. Thrashing blindly I try to knock it aside, in my terror a vision of Prometheus flashes across my mind. The agony of movement is enough to send me back into a dark sleep but I grit my teeth and stay awake. Alexander, where are you Alexander? Rolling over I try to make it to my knees. Weakness and pain only grant me, like two foul and conspiring gods my stomach and my bitter reward is the added agony gifted to me of broken ribs. Alexander. Get back to Alexander. Alexander needs you Hephaistion, I scold myself. You must get back to Alexander. Crawl. Crawl Hephaistion, you get up on your battered knees and crawl your sorry ass back to me to your Alexander. I keep hollering to myself inside my head. I let the memory of his voice fill my mind urging me forward. Come on now, on your knees!

The voice was nice, it gave me a feeling of calm but what really got me moving was the rat that had, like any good scout, returned with reinforcements.

I'm scrambling now, up the steep embankment. The sharp rocks gouging my hands and knees, the rats chasing me sometimes getting on me, nipping at my already scratched skin and I have to knock their burly little bodies away. This is not how Patroclos is supposed to die. If he's dies such a dishonorable death then what of my Achilles. I scream into the star lit darkness for Alexander to come to me.

Finally I reach the top and strike away the last rat. They'd given up; I'm still too alive I guess. The climb has cost me though and I collapse on the edge of the deer trail completely spent. Rolling onto my side I try to curl up for warmth. I feel it then, my pendent. My pendant from Alexander. I take it in hand and wrap my fist around it as tightly as weakness will allow. He too carries an identical one. He gave them to us after Chaeronea, to bind us forever like the men of the Sacred Band of Thebes. Oh, how Alexander so loves his histories, tales and gestures. As if being Patroclus to his Achilles was not enough. I laugh out loud, a deep and strangely distant sound to my ears, which seem to be the only part of my body not in pain or broken in some way. He's always trying to join us somehow, yet he scolds me for my insecurities. He is bound to 'me', only a simple soldier. He does not see sometimes that my 'only' vow is to him, as his friend and lover, but he… he happens to be the King. He does not understand that I am bound to a man in love with a kingdom and so surrounded by duties and the love of thousands that I can't help but feel afraid to be cast aside…insecure I may be but damn you, Alexander, the gods know my reasons. Damn my ears too. I guess this means, since they work, I'll have to listen to him scold me about this little problem I'm having. Huddled up on the hard ground I tried to piece the night together. Cleitus' punch, my room, couldn't sleep, took a walk…at the next memory I again screamed into the night…attacked and raped. My honor ripped from me, like grapes from the vine, and stomped into a slurry of crimson that I will never be able to wash from my skin. In my failing consciousness I remembered being on my knees, surrounded by six maybe eight laughing men and asking Cleitus, why? His words drove the last bit of awareness from my tortured mind.

"Because Hephaistion, 'you too are Alexander' and right now I want to punish the ungrateful brat for degrading our country."


	3. Chapter three

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion. Movie driven. First ATG fan fic. Movie based I suppose. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

Switching back to Alexander POV here, beginning to feel as though I shouldn't have tackled these voices just yet.

Rating: PG-17 for safety

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all, besides Hephaistion who could?

Chapter Three-Alexander's guilt

Damn you, Bagoas! I thought as I awoke after the sun's rise. I'd mumbled at him to rouse me early when I'd staggered in last night. Well at least I thought that had. Last night was a shadowy memory for me, probably better left forgotten. I'd wanted to do something at first light and now I was late. Not only was I late but I had no idea what it was I had planned to do. Still, how can one deal with a slave who thinks? Yes, he is more than a mere slave but, rouse me early means just that. He's like an over protective nanny, the boy is. I wonder sometimes what bothers Hephaistion more about the lithe dancer, his coddling or any sexual appeal he might hold for me. My own mother only barely out does Bagoas' worrisome coddling. Scrubbing the sleep from my wine bleary eyes I hollered for him. Of course, once I saw the look of worry on his face, I eased off and instead, shocked myself by hungrily dragging him into bed; my judgment dulled by morning after drunkenness. I needed something. I needed to feel but without commitment. Just feel my rage and powerlessness go away. To be in control of even the basest of things. I was still half drunk and wanton as a bull at stud and… and I needed some sign. A sign of just what I wasn't sure but the lingering effect of last night's wine and the thought of the coming wedding drove me to foolishness. So it came to be that with only a niggling thought as to my errand for that morning, I turned my back on the only man I'd ever loved and bedded a eunuch who'd been bedded by Darius.

It was about two hours later as I sat in a soothing hot bath, scrubbing and scratching with gnawed off fingernails the guilt-ridden scent of the eunuch's perfume from my skin, that the errand came to mind again, Hephaiston. Gods be damned! Hephaistion! The image of Cleitus' punch jolted through my drunken memory, followed by the hideous nightmare I'd had. Together they drove through my drunken dullness like Ptolemy's phalanx through a gap in the Persian army. I jumped from the bath sending the carefully heated water sloshing to the floor and again yelled for Bagoas. He brought me my cloths and waving off the food he'd set out for me I rushed toward Hephaistion's room. I wanted to run but held back. The sight of the king charging through the halls would not set well for my image. Self recrimination filled my heart as once again my image, and duty dictated my decisions. I reached inside my robes and grasped our pendent as a rush of panic surged through my body. Something is horribly wrong. Raising the small stone to my lips, I kissed it and looking skyward as I hurried along, I uttered a prayer to the gods. Oh, if I should lose him…Despite my earlier concern I begin to run. I will not live out the day if I've lost him while I bedded Bagoas for the first time, While I gave into base passion.

So familiar are Phai and I that although we knock on one another's doors we never wait to be asked in. It is a given that we are there for each other. There is truly no his or mine but only ours. I will never forget the first time he came to my door and found it locked. Bagoas and I were 'involved'. We'd actually done no more than kiss and embrace but the situation was getting more intense with each passing day. Why I did it, I don't know. I was lonely. Phai had been away for months; sent away, by me, on a difficult campaign. Upon his return he was distant and solitary, claiming exhaustion. Some gray shadow seemed to hang over his head and he kept himself apart from me. Something he'd never done before. Bagoas, well, conversely he was like a stone stuck in a horse's hoof nagging the beast with every step. He was 'there'. He was not only 'there' but also more than willing to replace Hephaistion in my bed. At the sound of the latch being jiggled, I'd panicked and pushed the stricken eunuch from the bed, sending him away, threw on a robe and foolishly rushed to open the door. I will not, even if the god's grant me immortality, forget the look of complete grief and hurt on my beloved friend's face as he looked first at me and then past me. That look will eat at my soul as Prometheus' eagle ate at his liver. The sound of rustling sheets caught my ear and I closed my eyes briefly as I turned toward the bed. Bagoas, realizing he'd left behind his tunic, tangled in the sheets, had tried to dash out and retrieve it. Hephaistion's punch sent me to the floor with the same conviction that Cleitus' had dropped him with last night.

So now, I'm here before his door. My gut is twisted with fear and concern. Has my infidelity brought some god's wrath upon me? I raise a trembling fist, knock, turn the latch and enter. The room is empty. No servants, no Hephaistion, no one. His Travel chest has been ruffled through and the lid was uncharacteristically left open. A half-full cup of wine sits on his small table and the bed has been turned down. His washbasin is red with blood and soiled rags lie on the floor beneath it. I cross the room and study the rack where his cloaks were hung. His favorite cloak, his 'walking cloak' as he refers to it is missing. The thing is twice as large as it needs to be and as old as these cursed mountains themselves but he loves to huddle in its familiar embrace and walk. Together we'd spent many hours wrapped in that old rag. Hephaistion, though says that is smells of me. So he loves to be buried in its comforting folds. My heart sinks again when I realize that all his weapons are still here, even his dagger. Cursing any gods that will hear me, I leave the small room and run to the stable. His horse is still there. Spinning around wildly in search of a sign of Phai I see Cleitus talking to a groom. Rushing over I grab his arm and spin him around. I have to look up at him and the sun is in my eyes, and I am in his towering shadow. In a rush of words I ask him about Hephaistion, he tells me he's not seen him since last night and follows with an apology. I scream at him to find him, call out a squad and go find him. My rationality is wavering. This is Hephaistion who is missing. He is my other half, my heart, my soul. I try to remain calm but every warning sign in my being tells me that he is in desperate need of help. I can not curb my threats of death and mayhem if my lover is not returned to me. Lover. That's insane I say to myself. We love, yes, but purely, no?

Hephaistion has vanished. It's been hours now and no sign of the man has been found. Finally, in despair, I call for my horse and with Ptolemy and six others we also head out. I know I have to get to him before dark. I can feel him but he's getting weaker.

Hephaiston tells of his trouble

Morning. God, I am so weak. The tremors that rattle my battered body drain any energy that I might have left. No one is coming, and I am but a shadow of a man. A shadow; gods I hope that as a shadow I can frighten away the myriad lot of creatures that try to gnaw on my raw flesh. Alexander should be searching by now the sun has been climbing for some time. Pity though I can't seem to feel its warmth. I mumble quiet prayers and focus on my Alexander. My friend, my soul, my king, my…my "I won't leave you Alexander!" chattering teeth bite into an already brutalized lip. I'm so tired. Alexander. I bring the pendant painfully to my lips and kiss it holding it there a token of love. Shortly after it seems I hear hoof beats. Feel them through the earth really. They come closer and for a moment, I am relieved. Then a voice rings out. If nothing else as soldiers, we learn to know the sound of our commander's voice through the confusion of battle. We learn to pick it out from the screams and shouts and orders given by other commanders. Only my ears are left to me now. A while ago, my eyes sealed shut with blood and dust, swelling and flies. Yes, but my ears…the voice carried on the breeze is Cleitus'. Fearing for my life and hoping, drunk, as they'd been, that they had little idea as to where they'd thrown me last night I pitched myself back down the embankment to hide from them. Alexander don't forsake me.

Alexander arrives-His guilt is realized

I heard the scout holler for me to come back. My heart leapt at the thought that he'd found something. Hold on Phai, hold on I repeated over and over in my head. You know that I'd never forsake you love, my friend, hold on. The man showed where something had lain beside the path. There was a good deal of blood, and claw like marks as though a hand had grasped the dirt. We peered down the slope and my heart sank. If Hephaistion was down there…no I will not allow myself to think it. I hollered out his name. After a moment, I heard it, weak and as quiet as a snake slipping across the floor.

"Xander."

I dove headlong down the hill and stopped when I saw his brutally beaten form huddled up in the thin weeds. His eyes were gone, completely swollen shut and more purple than the royalist robe. He was scraped, scratched, and bruised over his entire body. Blood, there was so much blood. Too much really. I flew to him and quickly searched his body for knife wounds there were none. I pulled him to my chest and wept into his filthy hair. He kept repeating over and over that he loved me. I said the same and tried in vain to push his blood-matted hair from his face. I saw it then the trail of crimson running like a road map from his clawed and bruised buttocks, tellingly down his long strong legs. I saw the vicious claw marks on his hips and the bite marks on his shoulder blades. I groaned in despair. Ahh god why have you stolen that from him? Why? Not the only part of him that not even I had shared. Not that, not that. We'd planned some day to share that part of him but the thought of causing him pain always halts my effort. So it remained like a treasure, my secret treasure, his final gift to me. Who, I asked him who? His response was beyond belief. Cleitus. Why, I asked him again his response was unbelievable, through swollen lips he whispered.

"I too am Alexander. He wanted to punish you for marrying, this way he gets us both."

I swore to kill him, but he shook his head no, this was his fight, his honor he would deal with it. We bundled him up and headed back.


	4. Shadowboxing chapter four

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion. Movie driven. First ATG fan fic. Movie based I suppose. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

Switching back to Alexander POV here, beginning to feel as though I shouldn't have tackled these voices just yet.

Rating: PG-17 for safety

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all, besides Hephaistion who could?

Shadowboxing Chapter Four

Healing and Dealing

The doctor is as insane as my mother. The old fool, where he'd dug up the courage from I'll never know, had me dragged from my own room and away from Hephaistion's side by my own guard. I should have him flayed. I need to be with Hephaistion. Nothing should be able to keep us parted, not the whole of the Persian army, not the call of Sirens, and damn sure not one old fool of a doctor. I pound on the thick door until Ptolemy grabs my shoulders and spins me round to face him. Perdicass is there, Cassander and Craterus as well. They hold no love for my Hephaistion and their presence is tantamount to that of circling vultures. They come here like looters after a battle and it is my heart they seek to divvy up between themselves. I won't have it, and screaming at them in Macadonian I send the creatures away except for Ptolemy. He holds me up a bit as I slide with my back against the door down to the stone floor. Sobbing in frustration, anger and ineffectualness. I want my vengeance and I want it now. Hephaistion, though has tied my hands, and those bindings, the trust found in any oath between us, defies even the tangle of the Gordian knot.

"Alexander, let the doctors work, come now Alexander. They cannot treat him with you clutching him as you were. Alexander!"

He shakes me by my shoulders and slowly like a baggage train weighed down by women and plodding up a mountain pass, I began to find my center. I sigh a deep and shuddering sigh and look into his gray eyes. I see in them that he knows who has done this. That whether by spying or simple logic he has pieced together the puzzle.

"Cleitus, what will you do about Cleitus, Alexander. He cannot be allowed to go unpunished. This is more than a simple beating Alexander. They left him for dead." He surprises me by sitting down beside me and putting his arm around my shoulders. "You cannot leave Hephaistion alone in this like you normally would, this is too much! It borders, Alexander, on treason. He is your second now, Alexander. What will you do?"

I look at him and I can see that he reads the confusion in my eyes.

"Hephaistion, made me swear to leave it to him. His fight, his honor. My hands are bound."

I growl in frustration and bang my head back against the door over and over. I want to hurt as I know that he is hurting. Such is our closeness. I want suck the pain from his body and make him whole and pure again. I want to replace him and take the beating for him. It was after all meant for me. It was my actions that brought it on. Like tossing a pebble into a pool my actions always seem to ripple outwards and drown the things I care about the most. No, I am no pebble. Truth be told I am more of a boulder, and the ripples are huge and deadly tidal waves, such as those driven by the quaking earth. Hephaistion now has become a victim. My beautiful Hephaistion.

I do not know how long the doctors took, only that Ptolemy sat with me and paced with me as a loyal and trusted friend should. I twisted my guts around and around like meat on a spit as the visions of what Hephaiston had endured played over and over again behind my red rimmed eyes. I'd seen my share of brutality and rape. I meted out harsh and monstrous brutality. I'd heard the screams of the boys my father and his soldiers took. Did you scream my Hephaistion, did you scream? In my heart I know that he had. That I would have. How much longer. Gods, I so needed to be near him. Ptolemy's advice that if they were still working on him he must be alive did little to ease my heart. Seeing was believing, and my imagination began to run wild. Maybe he'd died and the doctor and his aides had simply killed themselves to avoid my wrath. Maybe they were trying to choose who would forfeit his life and bring the horrible news maybe…

The sound of the door latch swung me around and an exhausted aide to the doctor motioned for us to enter.

Hephaistion is there. On my bed swaddled in furs and propped up a bit by pillows. I walk hesitantly toward the bed wringing my hands nervously like and old woman, I can hear Ptolemy speaking in hushed whispers with the doctors. Hephaistion. He is clean now but his face is still a mass of purple bruising and his beautiful eyes are still swollen closed. Hephaistion; finally I sit tenderly on the edge of the great bed afraid to cause him pain. He sleeps. I note with relief that his breathing is steady and quiet, the gurgle of death is not present. I want to touch him but my shaking hand hovers over him, where? 'Where do I touch you my love and not cause you pain?' Again tears slip from my eyes and I feel Ptolemy's hand on my shoulder.

"The doctor will return later Alexander. He says Hephaistion needs rest and fluids. He lost a great deal of blood. Will you be alright with him alone, Alexander. I could send for…"

"No, Ptolemy. We are fine. Just post a guard, and let his men know that he is alive and will get well. He loves his men Ptolemy, and they love him."

He leaves and I finally touch my much loved friend's battered cheek. I tell him that I am with him and that I love him and that he will be well again soon. If he hears me, I do not know, but it eases my tormented soul to think that he does.

It was four days before Hephaistion truly came around. Yes, he'd been in and out a time or two but it was four long days before he knew me and could respond to my comfort. I stayed in my room with him, sleeping on the floor so as not to disturb him and left only for very brief meetings with my council and staff. I put the wedding off for a bit until I was certain Hephaistion was better. Cleitus for his part was unreadable. If he feared my retribution he made know note of it. I had to give the fool credit, he was doing a fine job of masking his guilt, a trait, no doubt that he'd learned from my father. Whenever I saw him I had but one thought. 'Your smug silence will not save you old friend, for if nothing else I have learned from my mother, though I seldom employ it, the fine art of hurting and destroying those I love.' My first question to my Hephaistion, when he able to speak well was just that.

"How will you punish Cleitus, you have my blessing and that of Zeus in this Phai. Anything. Anything you desire my love"

It's been two weeks now and my thirst for vengeance is beginning to rule me. I fear that if Hephaistion does not act soon I will. To be in meetings with Cleitus and ignore his deed is tearing me apart. I have an insane urge to write my mother and ask her advice on a suitably horrendous mode of revenge. She is so much more vicious than I am. Yet no. She would only gloat at Hephaistion's misfortune and tell me that I'd brought it on myself, foul woman.

I watch him as he stands and walks to the fireplace. The flames are small yet warm and fragrant, like a camp fire in the cleft of some nameless mountain during a hunt. Inviting and friendly, good memories can only be birthed by such warmth and scents. He is still stiff and his damaged ribs plague him like fleas on hound. I can see that he is bothered, yet he tries to ignore the pain. I thank the gods that the awful swelling and discoloration that marred his face has gone away somewhat. It is the scars that I cannot see though that cause me the most agony. The shame I know he feels at what was done to him. We have not spoken of it yet but I have held him tight within my arms when the nightmares dragged him, like a reluctant bull to slaughter, from his sleep.

"Hephaistion, you have stayed my hand in this," I place my arms around him and rub his back. "but by the gods, I do not know how much longer I can feign ignorance of his guilt. Hephaistion?"

I feel him shudder in my grasp and sigh. "You love him. You owe him your life. Granicus. And Philip owed him his before you. What would you have me do? Shame you with selfish revenge before the gods. Alexander, this is Cleitus."

"And you, my love, are Hephaistion. And you my love are good, and honorable. And you my Hephaistion have suffered their barbs and jealous lances and vitriol since Meiza in order to stay at my side. But this Hephaistion, crosses all bounds. A fight, an argument, yes you've suffered through them before. But this. They left you, my love, for dead. They attacked you as an affront to me, their King. It is treasonous Hephaistion, treasonous."

He pulled from my grasp and sat down on the couch. He was thinking. Contemplating. Weighing options and counter options as only he knew how. He was putting on the scales his love of me and my love of Cleitus. His place in my heart and life and kingdom and my place as king. When he spoke he spoke rapidly and with the same hissing hatred that my mother had learned from her snakes and used so well to dominate those around her.

"I feel like her Alexander. I hate her. Your mother. I lie awake at night and plan and plot how best to make him suffer. How to make you happy with my choice of punishment. He defiled me. He took from me the one thing that should have been yours aside from my heart. The one thing that not even Philip dared touch for his love of you. I too am Alexander you say, but would Alexander so readily forget the life debt that owe this man, would Philip? Your mother would. As quickly as one of her vile snakes can strike a man down. Am I nothing more than a weak and needy replica of her? So needing of your love and devotion and attention. I want to hurt him Alexander, but…I do have a plan. If you would agree."

"Anything." I sat down beside him and poured us each a cup of wine. "Anything, Phai, just name it." And now I too felt like her. A fetid conspirator plotting away a life. So be it. He had harmed my Hephaistion and threatened my position. I shuddered and reminded myself which slight was more important.

He began, and I had to admit his ploy was clever and vicious. Spare Cleitus, but make him punish the six men with him. They were a tight lot and would together in death for one another if need be. One of which was his own boy. The two were close and Cleitus loved him dearly. They had been together since we'd departed Macedonia and Cleitus defended him fiercely. Yes, my Hephaistion, you are truly an apt student of intrigue and retaliation.

It would be a week more before Hephaistion was well enough to attend a council meeting and felt strong enough to enact his revenge. When he entered the meeting room that afternoon there was an audible gasp at his appearance from those present. None had seen him since the beating save Ptolemy. He was still battered even after three weeks. I wondered if some of them reconsidered their glee at his pain once they'd seen him. Cleitus and his men had done a good job and the stitches and bruising would take a bit of time yet to be fully gone.

He took up his position away from us as he always had, the difference being that he sat in a chair where he would normally stand. Cleitus seemed uncomfortable but hid it well. He had to have known that Hephaistion would return. Why did he seemed shocked.

"Hephaistion," I shattered the silence. "It is good to once again have you in our presence. You are well I take it?"

"Yes, Alexander. Well and ready to resume whatever function you desire of me." Ah yes, always the loyal and able follower.

"Good. By some few of us, you have been sorely missed." My eyes met Cleitus' and held him pegged there for a long moment. "Yet others…well."

We moved through the afternoons business quickly and when the last topic was broached I stood and walked to the door. The sun was high and hot. Just as we'd hoped for. Without turning back to the room I spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Is there any other business?"

I heard him stand and felt him move past me. Then his voice sounded as loud and strong and clear as the bravest trumpeters call in battle. It filled me with pride and love for him just then. Fear as well. My Hephaistion. He would have his revenge, but at what cost. Pebbles and ripples again filled my mind.

"Cleitus, assemble your men for my review." I waited to hear the older man argue against Hephaistion's authority. He was silent. "Unarmed, un-horsed and naked. Immediately."

"What? Has this beating you've suffered rattled your already arrogant brain boy? Do you, have you, you untried and coddled upstart, any command over me? What right to order me…"

I turned then and watched as Hephaistion stood now toe to toe with Cleitus and made his case.

"You, General, have been given an order by me, General Hephaistion Amytor, second to our King Alexander. Untried I am not. An upstart I am not, but by virtue, General Cleitus, of my recent appointment, I do in fact out rank you. Now you have your orders, I suggest you see to them. Dismissed."

Cleitus was furious beyond belief. His fists were clenched with enough force to crush Mt. Olympus itself and his eyes blazed with a fire so hot that no forge, not even that of our fine god Hephaestion could contain it. The stricken man stormed from the room amidst the cries of outrage from all the others save Ptolemy. What right they spat, what right did Hephaistion have to humiliate such a one as Cleitus. Rejoining to fray I spoke loudly to overcome the din.

"Is Hephaistion not my second?" They nodded. "Then does he not command, should he desire, over…all of you? He will not I am sure abuse his position without warrant. If I felt that he would," and my eyes met each of theirs, "I would not have trusted him with it. Come now, in a few moments we have a review to attend. Look lively and heed this days lesson well!"

As I made my way to the open are where Cleitus would assemble his men I felt a sudden wave of panic. Yes, Cleitus would pay, but the hate and jealousy these men felt for Hephaistion would increase. I began to consider just calling Cleitus out and making it known that he'd condoned the attack on Hephaistion. I'd promised him his way though and we would just have to ride out the consequences dealt to us by fate.

Cleitus had them ready in short time. We rode up on horses and dismounted before them. Hephaistion strode directly toward Cleitus who stood before his men at attention but still clothed. Pulling smuggly at the sleeve of the angry man's robe he said, "Your orders, General Cleitus, were naked. Do hold yourself above and apart from your men? Neither your King nor I certainly would. Disrobe."

Cleitus did and we began to cull the six men we sought from the ranks. It did not take long. Hephaistion has a sharp eye when it came to remembering a face and being beaten had not dulled it. We left them all standing in the hot sun while we waited for the next part of Hephaistion's plan to complete itself. When they'd left him for dead they'd taken everything from him. Looting him as any good soldier would do. His great robe, his bracers, his shoes and jewlary. So as we roasted in the sun we had my house guard search the tents and kits of the six in question. They arrived and placed the items found at the feet of the man whose kit it had been recovered from. I found myself happy that Hephaistion's walking robe had been found in Cleitus' boy's kit. Vengeance was getting sweeter by the moment.

"General Hephaistion here, one of my finest commanders and a dear friend was attacked, beaten and left for dead some three weeks past. These items are his. These items were found in your kits. He has identified you six as his attackers. If any one of you will come forward and declare that you were following General Cleitus' orders in this travesty you will all be spared. Like wise if General Cleitus accepts responsibility for this act of treason you will all be spared and he will be summarily executed. Who will speak?"

None did. A shame really. Such devotion and I was about to kill it and short my army of fine men. Cleitus stood still and arrogant trying to read my plan. There is no way that could have though as it was not mine but Hephaistion's.

"Are you all guilty then?" Still silence. "You, Cleitus' boy are you guilty of this crime against me? Will throw away your life for his?" I pointed at Cleitus. Who stood as blind as Prometheus to what was occurring around him. "You possessed Hephaistion's cloak. A cloak I know to be his since he has carried it since our youth. Do you admitt your guilt?"

"Yes, my king. We battered your 'boy'. We had our way with your 'boy' and good King it is apparent who rules in your tent. He was quite 'tight' and untried." I was furious beyond rational thought. Even Cleitus' front shattered a bit at his boy's boldness. Yes, the lad was a good Macadonian trooper. No fear of death in this one and with his mind poisoned by Cleitus' jealousy, his hate for Hephaistion would cost him his life.

"Hephaistion, your sentence?"

"Death my King. Executed by Cleitus' very own hand."

At this Cleitus paled. He turned to me and through his eyes he sought redemption and forgiveness. He would find neither. He now understood fully the nest he'd wandered into and was aware that his only way out was death. But a hardened and tried survivor such as he is does not go quietly to his doom. No the general in him took over and he figured that six lives were indeed worth his. Even if he lost his beloved, brave boy. Boys were easy enough to procure.

So it came that we assembled and looked on as Cleitus the Black cut the throats of all six of his compatriots involved in Hephaistion's beating. Cut them all with his own dagger, his boy being last by Hephaistion's order.


	5. Cleitus Sulks and Rants

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion and more. Stone's movie-verse driven. First ATG fan fic. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

POV switch to Cleitus.

Thanks to Shoenlee for this idea of hearing Cleitus' views. Thanks to everyone else who has read and reviewed! What good is writing if we don't know what other folks think about it. This as well as other nonsense will be posted on my LJ at 

Rating: PG-17 for safety. Warning this is Cleitus! STRONG language! Rape descriptions.

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all, besides Hephaistion who could?

Shadowboxing Chapter Five

Cleitus Sulks and Rants

So the little wretch of an ass-licker has had his revenge. By the gods I will not leave this deed unanswered. Hephaistion, the king's pretty little cock.

"I should have killed you Hephaistion, I should have killed you!"

Order me to a review! A review by you! Strip my men and myself. Degrade me! You forget, Hephaistion that I too was once a king's boy, Philip's. We though, unlike you and Alexander, are true men and we knew to end it with honor!

"Outrank me. Outrank 'me' Hephaistion! I need wine!"

Where is that boy off to now? Spiros was never so dull.

"Arian! Arian! Gods be damned boy, fetch me more wine! Why are you so slow Arian? Why? Will it take me a decade to train you up as good as Spiros was Arian? Wine you sluggard, now!"

"Here Cleitus, here. Please don't shout about Hephaistion sir. You've mostly avoided the kings wrath, Cleitus. Guard your fortune and ease up on the wine sir."

"Mind your mouth boy and stoke that fire! The king wouldn't dare lay hands on me. He owes me his life."

His life. His father's life. For what? So you can lead us all over the world on a whim Alexander? So you can marry the filthy leftovers of the beggars you've squashed under our blood soaked feet and call them queen. So you can make that glorified little harlot Hephaistion your Second in command. Chilliarch, my blackguards ass.

"You're my king's whore and consort Hephaistion and not a damn thing more!"

Command 'me', will you Hephaistion? Who was in command that night three weeks past, General Hephaistion, hmm? I'd love to hear your answer to that, General Hephaistion Amytor. Chilliarch.

Oh, while I grieve the loss of my boy and my men, I would not trade it for the memory of you, on your knees, battered and naked on that cold, dry creek bed. If only your great king could have seen you then, with your pretty, king's ass kissing rear up for grabs. If only your Alexander could have heard you scream. Your Alexander. 'Your' Alexander!

"What pig shit! He is and always will be 'ours'!"

And scream you did Phai. That's what he calls you when you ply your wares in his bedroom, isn't it Hephaistion? Phai! Oh yes I've heard him slip up on occasion and sputter it from his drunk lips at a banquet while he ogled your pretty face; or even sober during a meeting when the two of pass those secretive and all knowing tiny glances at each other. Phai. Do you remember that I whispered it in your ear as I took from you what should have been his? Do you Phai? Oh, and what a surprise I had! Twice the enjoyment! Sometimes the gods bless even the vilest deeds. Who would have guessed that it is you who rides our king. Who would have taken you for the blushing, bare assed virgin? Scream you did, General Hephaistion, you screamed and screamed and screamed like a pig at slow slaughter. Too bad by the time Spiros got to you your voice had gone dry and all you managed was a desperate puling.

"Spiros, my lovely dark eyed Spiros. I will avenge you!"

Hephaistion! I've watched for too long as you fucked and weaseled your way into his life and council chamber. I stood back with Philip and let it go because it made Olympias so blindly insane with jealousy to watch how you and her son got on. How many times had I begged 'you', Philip, my true king, to let me take him, son of a revered commander or not. Take him and drive the beautiful, horny little Athenian sycophant from the heart of your son, my prince and by your order my sworn charge.

Yes, Hephaistion, I will allow you this. You, regardless of how much I hate you and what you've done to my kings, you were a beautiful boy, and to be fair, 'Phai' I will allow, as well, that you grew into a beautiful man.

Did I want you? By the gods yes! Your long, lithe yet strong legs and clear blue eyes. Your smile and always glad and open face. The thought of those legs wrapped round my waist haunted my dreams and fueled my jealousy, boy. And now you would claim to command me! A command that you fucked your way into. That you came into by sneaking through the back door, by chipping away at my king's weakness'.

"Maybe it took me a few years you little prick, but you're 'my' boy now!"

"Please…please Cleitus for the love of Phoebus stop yelling these words so loudly! Do you wish to follow Spiros into death, Cleitus? Please, heed your true boys' words."

I threw my feet from the camp table and flung myself at him. The slap was louder than my ranting and it split both of his lips.

"True boy! True boy, you stupid and puerile fool! Spiros, was my 'true boy' you have no idea what you're babbling! Get me some more fucking wine and do it fast before I snap your foolish, skinny neck."

Truth and true. I'm no damned philosopher and have no stomach for their prattle, but I know what is true! Philip's dream was true. Now I wonder who drives this campaign, my king's son or his blue eyed whore. To have Alexander compare himself to gods and heroes I can deal with but Hephaistion, his cock sure rule over my Alexander must end. Gods strike me dead! And now, Hephaistion, to have the knowledge that you have sullied Alexander by taking the top in this sick relationship that you two claim, if pushed, is blessed by the gods. Achilles and Patroclus! What nonsense Alexander! And Hephaistion! That you bugger my king and he allows it. That you rule over the greatest victor of all time. It burns my mind to know these things, General Hephaistion Amytor. It can't be allowed to continue! Philip bade me to watch over you Alexander. Would you have me go back on a promise. Remember the day your father died, Alexander? Recall his words. To trust me always. That I would have your back.

"I have nothing Alexander! Nothing! And this rapacious interloper now covers your back. Covers 'my' king!"

I wonder if they've talked about it? Hah! I'd give my sword arm to be a flea in Alexander's bed when they do! How much will that spoiled little bitch tell? How much will he allow his lover to know. Will you, General Hephaistion, admit to him your piglet pitched screams? Will the king's stallion speak of your own dread? Will you tell your king what it felt like to be ravaged not by only me but six of my best men? Tell how it felt to be taken by 'my boy'! Will you Phai, you whelp of black love, tell how you bade us to leave off and take your life and spare your virgin ass. Yes, you were saving it, weren't you Phai? Like some sick personal temple, for 'your' Alexander weren't you General, Chilliarch Hephaistion Amytor. Gods be damned, maybe you even enjoyed it.

Yes, now that's a thought! A short letter to the proud father of the defiled and plundered General. Better yet…oh and this will cut as no blade could. A letter to you Phai, telling how your Alexander spent his morning the day you were missing. Yes, fucking that Persian eunuch. Fucking pretty Bagoas. Oh yes, Phai! It was pretty Bagoas who was warming your lover's bed while your life bled out onto the cold, hard, dry sand. How I love loyal spies!

Yes, that's it Hephaistion. I won't get my revenge with one strike. I will slice away at the two of you as a hound does when bringing down a stag. Small, yet wicked cuts and barbs. Nips and bites. I'll sit back and watch the two of you bleed out slowly. Philip be damned! Alexander has drifted from the cause and it's you, General Hephaistion, you licentious bitch, you who has steered him from our course! I will avenge both you Philip, and you Spiros. I will right this sinking ship called Alexander's world rule and turn us back onto the road that you, my great and only king, King Philip, sketched out for us.

Where's that boy?

"Arian! Get your young, ripe ass out here and tend to me! Arian!"

Yes, let the bold little rat pleasure me into forgetting, at least for a few hours, the pain in my empty, lost, black heart.


	6. Chapter six And Alone I suffer

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion and more. Stone's movie-verse driven. First ATG fan fic. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

POV switch: Hephaistion

Thanks for all the reviews and comments. This as well as other nonsense will be posted on my LJ at 

Rating: PG-17 for safety. Rape descriptions.

Disclaimer: Don't own him. After all, besides Hephaistion who could?

Chapter six

It's been three months since the wedding and though I show little interest in his kind visits Alexander still keeps coming to me. To ease my pain, to comfort me and try to drive away the dark pall that clouds my heart, but I find that I have no stomach for his ministrations. No real desire to see the light and beauty around me. Alexander, my lifelong friend and confidant. My lover. I now seem to be somehow mute to his words and numbed and frightful of his touch. These past months have tried my will and plied at my soul. Cleitus' attack and subsequent punishment, Alexander's wedding, the deepening resentment of the other companions toward me. Endless mountains of work. Only Ptolemy remains a friend. Never have I felt so isolated and insecure. I feel as if I am stumbling through a dream. Set aside by Alexander for a wife and then to receive the letter.

I shudder still at the memory of reading those words for the first time. The foul bit of rumor appeared on my desk three days after the wedding. Three days that were for me lonely and heartbreaking. It was tossed in with a pile of other unopened scrolls. I sat and began to tiredly work my way through my mail, fighting to keep my eyes open, but stopped when I came to the unsealed and somewhat rumpled one. I opened it with fearful curiosity.

" Hephaistion,

This is to tell you how little the one you love so devoutly treats your loyalty. While you lay lost and bleeding after your beating, Alexander was bedding the eunuch Bagoas. As a loyal follower I am duty bound, my lord, to aid you, and inform you of this travesty during what can only be a difficult time for you."

It was unsigned and while I knew the intrigues that flew around the court I was instantly struck with vomiting. My entire body shook, sweat poured down my spine and I bit into my lip to squelch the scream that threatened escape. Despite all efforts to hide my distress my alerted Page came running and helped me away from the desk and to a chair, quickly cleaning up the mess and bringing me wine.

Yes, I'd heard the whispers but I'd dismissed them, and now this. How much farther from his life did Alexander want to push me. Yes, much of the distance between us these last few months was my doing. Especially after I received the letter. I just couldn't open my heart to him. It was as though it had been sealed in a great vault with my trust in him and the keys had been tossed away.

Alexander had spent every night, for a month after the wedding with Roxane and I'd seen virtually nothing of him. It was his duty, and while it left me alone with my own pain from Cleitus' abuses, I understood it. Thought that I could deal with it. Maybe it was all simply poor timing. He needed to be apart from me when for the first time, in our long relationship, I so badly needed for him to stand by me. To be with only me. To help me heal. To hold me up. To be the pillar for my damaged, tired and wounded soul that I had always been for him. The gods know that I have no one else. Who can say. The fact is, that by the time he did come, after that long month of searching alone for some redemption for my weakness; my soul had frozen over and like the sharpest adze, my overwhelming shame and guilt at what had been done to me by Cleitus and the reality of Alexander's bedding of Bagoas had chipped away at my always somewhat gentle spirit, leaving me deeply splintered and wounded.

The letter. I so much wanted to disregard it as a cruel attempt to goad me into some foolish action, but it rang so full of truth in my logical mind that even if he tried, Alexander could not deny it if I asked him. I'd caught the glances between them. I'd even caught the little tart scurrying from Alexander's room after he'd unbarred his door upon hearing my key in the lock. A door that had never been 'barred' to me. Locked yes, but I have a key, the thing had been barred as well that evening. The scene left little to the imagination. So I am no fool when it comes to Alexander's off handed desires. It hurt. It hurt to know that while I had remained true he had acted upon his base desires and broken his promise to me. A promise we'd pledged as youths. I hurt! I am a soldier, a General, a Chilliarch and as fierce a fighter as most anyone else but it hurt, what was done to me. Cleitus ripped something from me that I don't think anyone or anything can ever replace and Alexander had betrayed me for the first time in our lives.

While my logical mind explains my agony away and begs me to stand strong and willful like a good stone hewn Macadonian General, to suffer in silence and bury my pain and weakness…my true and human soul cries out for comfort in the arms of Alexander. Fear and hurt keep me away though and three months of despairing over the truth of the letter and my shame about Cleitus' invasion of my body have only driven me that much farther from the very source of the solace I so desperately need. Enough of this exhausted beleaguering, Hephaistion, get yourself up and go to the day's meeting!

The meetings were the hardest part of the day. I could not help but wonder which of my shrewish companions knew the full extant of Cleitus' attack on me. Which ones knew of my shame. The doctors, while loyal to myself and Alexander, had been threatened with death should they divulge any information, but still. Ptolemy knew and I am sure that the few men with him and Alexander that day may have wondered. So now I had to contend not only with the normal jibes and barbs but with my own self doubts. Knowing that I'd dealt swift punishment to my attackers, that my men were still fiercely loyal to me and that I had made my ranking and position in this court known did little to calm my concerns.

I stood there and listened as Alexander droned on about this allotment and that taxation plan and who to promote. The training schedules and provisions for a night march… I stared at the strangely carved wall before me. I let my mind drift aimlessly in a sea of apathy, exhaustion and depression. Craterus was screaming at Perdiccas about some such issue and now again Alexander was babbling about pack mules and camels and how to move some huge shipment of timber…The deeply carved wooden wall was fascinating and as I stared at the oddly wrought creatures they began to slither amidst beautifully colored flowers, I could smell the blossoms I could hear the birds… as I slipped farther and farther from the reality of the meeting, horrible visions began to play across my mind. Cleitus and his men, the rats, blood and gore. Severed heads…fountains of blood… snakes…I heard my name as a mere whisper from some place very, very, very far away.

"Hephaistion?" I felt a hand on my left shoulder, jumped away from the unexpected contact and drew my blade on the attacker; abject fear clearly etched across my face. "Phai?"

Phai? It was then that I noticed the tears running in thick rivulets down my stubble covered cheeks, and snot poring from my nose.

"Phai?" He never calls me that in public. "Phaistion?" Then after a pause, "Leave us!" He screamed with a violent wave of his arm.

I cringed at the fury in his voice; the voice he used for commanding troops in battle, and misunderstanding, thinking that he meant to banish me for my weakness, I turned and made to leave, but he again grasped my shoulder and again I leveled my sword at his throat. Then in a voice reserved for our most private moments he halted me. "No, my friend, not you my Phai, not you."

I blinked in confusion and scanned the room for the first time with eyes that could actually see. My chest was heaving as I gulped for air that refused to fill my lungs. They were all there, swords drawn except for Alexander, so blind is his trust. They were staring at me, the one who dared level a weapon on their king. Gods and what a sight I must have been. Trembling, snot nosed and crying, my sword clutched in my shaking fist, the point aimed at Alexander's throat. They sheathed their weapons and filed out. Ptolemy paused and squeezed my arm as he passed, his bright eyes filled with worry. It warmed me just a bit, broke the spell and my sword dropped to the floor. I know the others will go off and laugh and berate my foolish display but at least Ptolemy cared. I am so tired of being hated. No, I am just so very tired. Sleep refuses to find me and my mind twists and pivots around all manner of nonsense endlessly. Alexander?

I have no recollection of how I've arrived in Alexander's chambers. I have strange sense of feeling strong arms bearing me along. Of feeling for the first time in so very long, safe. Of being surrounded by a very tight circle of men. It is more of a sensation though than a memory.

I watch as he pours the wine and crosses to where I am slouching in a great soft chair. He sits beside me, hands me a cup and nods for me to drink. I still feel very distant, but staring at him I drink and hand him back my cup. He has tears pooling in his confused and worried eyes. I am not sure why. Has something awful occurred. I flinch a bit when he reaches out to push my hair back, and now his tears flow freely at my display of mistrust.

" Alexander? Why do you cry?" I ask quietly, my nerves tingling.

"Phai? Phai? What is it Phai? What torments you so? What just happened Phai? In the meeting. Phaistion, I have tried, my beloved, to reach into this accursed darkness that has swallowed your soul like some behemoth of the deep ocean and rescue you from its maw but Phai…"

My chest is heaving now and reduced to sobbing I bury my face in my trembling hands. My control is gone. Shattered. Exhaustion, despair, loneliness and confusion have won out. I reach into my robe and withdraw the letter. Why I carry it, I am not sure. It burns against my chest and reminds me of my pain. I hold it out and takes the vile thing.

I look away as he reads it, I cannot stand to see the truth in his eyes.

"Where did you get this?" He demands, the softness gone from his voice. I shrug absently wondering if he will try to deny it. "Do you believe this Hephaistion?"

Defeated "Yes, Alexander." He is silent as he stands, walks away and returns, the letter crumpled in his tight fist.

"And you would be correct in doing so, my much loved, Hephaistion. I…erred. Failed you. Failed us and the gods. We have paid for my transgression. I am sorry."

So there it was. My answer. I am not surprised. So why do I still feel so dead? No deader. So old yet truly we are so young yet.

"Alexander." I needed words. "Xander." I finally looked up at him. Tears still fell from his worried eyes. "Alexander, help me to heal, Alexander. Help me to be strong again, to be honorable enough to be your Patroclus again. I can't bear to loose you over my weakness and shame Alexander. I fought them Xander, I fought them… I fell to Cleitus' punch in the hall, they all saw my weakness, I…my shame…shamed you. To die before disgracing your…"

He dragged me roughly into his arms. I saw the understanding in his eyes then, that this wasn't only about the eunuch, but also about the shattering of my self esteem and pride beneath Cleitus' fists. About the fear losing him after being stripped of the very things that I felt kept me glued to him. My honor, my pride my confidence my ability to fight and win.

"Is that what you think Hepaistion? That I love you less! That Cleitus could drive you from me with a beating! That you…you are a lesser , weaker man because of what they did to you? Never, Hephaistion! Never!"

He was incredulous, and holding me so tightly that it hurt. It was a good hurt. A hurt that even in the darkest abyss of this despair that has suffocated my spirit as of late, I knew that the pain would begin to heal me.

"I fought them, Alexander." I mumbled into his shoulder, shuddering like an aged oak in a stormy breeze as the memory played again across my mind. "I swear on the tomb of the Sacred Band, that I fought them! I meant you no disgrace by trying to live!"

"Phai, it was seven armed men to your one. What man could turn such odds, Phai, what man? I know that you fought with the heart of a lion, but Hephaistion the task before you was like that of a, fawn beset by hounds. Like a blaze beneath torrents, and torrents of god sent rain, even the fires of Prometheus fail when doused with torrents of rain and he too is a god! What man my brave Hephaistion?"

My voice only a defeated whisper I answered him. "You Alexander, you. Gaugamela. You. 'You' my Achilles would have found…"

"Enough!" He said almost too sternly and my hackles raised a bit. Had I angered him? He pushed me away and held me by my forearms. "No more of this Hephaistion! No more!" He tipped his head down a bit to looked up into my downcast eyes. "You have always been somehow gentler than me. You have always been, since our youth, so prone to this brooding and these…these dark fits of doubt and depression. Gods above Hephaistion I believe that your moodiness rivals even mine at times." He shook me a bit then grasped me by the biceps. "I will not loose you to this. I'll not allow you to wallow in this mire of guilt, self pity and doubt. I will earn your trust again Hephaistion and we will suffer Cleitus' ravages as one soul, and as one body, just as we always have done." Then he got that 'I've got a great idea' look in his eyes and I panicked just a bit. "We are taking a trip! And you my dear friend are going to get some much needed rest!"

"Please ,Alexander, not a trip. Please. Remember Siwa, Alexander. Not another trip."

He laughed then, a deep and wonderful laugh that despite my gloom sent a wave of warmth through my soul. He grasped my face between his hardened hands and again looked me in the eye as only he could, his head tilted ever slightly to the left and his lips curled slightly in the smile I loved. Fiercely he stared, yet warmed me with such love at the same time. Gods I need him. Have needed him. How much I've missed him I cannot describe with words. I expect him to kiss me and I tense despite myself. He feels it and holds off. The kiss would not end there, we both know each other well enough to be sure of that, and I am not ready for more than his gentle touch just yet. Alexander reads it in my eyes and pecks me sweetly on the forehead.

"No, my great General Hephaistion Amytor, just you and I. Us, just us. Us and our horses and a few servants and guides. Some hunting, no just riding and breathing free for a bit Hephaistion, like before all this insanity consumed me."

I pulled from his hands and studied him for a bit. "Not you Alexander, consumed us. Just a few guides and servants you say?" He nodded a smile slipping again across his face. "Not the eunuch."

"No, not the eunuch." He replied with a chuckle. "Never again. Never again. I have not touched him since that morning, and will not. The burden of my marriage is enough for you to carry. The gods have punished me and rightly so for my loss of control. Though truth be told, to pain me through you is a cruel and horrible burden for me to suffer and for you so unjust. Please Hephaistion, find it in your heart which is half my heart, to forgive my infidelity, to forgive me for the gods' choice to mete out my punishment through you and for me causing it."

"I am working on it Alexander. I am just so worn down as of late. I…I long to rest a bit, yet I cannot bear the shame of disappointing you with my exhaustion and my weakness. And Alexander do not doubt in the gods decisions." He nodded and continued.

"No shame, Phai. There is no shame. You work so hard at all I ask you to do. Ten times harder than the others. Stop trying to constantly prove, and insure your place at my side. If you were a cripple, mute and blind that place would still, Hephaistion, belong to you. May the gods damn them all for their churlish jealousies." Again he took me in his arms, though gentler now. "Today, you sleep! A hot bath, attended to by me, some good sweet wine and then to bed with you. I will make certain that you sleep. Now off with you, go into the bedroom and prepare for your bath. You have robes in the chest. We are alone. Today is yours."

I turned to go and paused with my back to him. "Alexander, earlier, at the meeting…I am sorry. I do not know what came over me. A spell of sorts. I drew my…" He turned me round and shook his head.

"No more about it today Hepaistion, save for another time when you are rested. Then we will puzzle it out."

So I went and readied myself for his much desired ministrations. Sleep I needed, just to sleep undisturbed. I craved it and desperately so. I needed him. True to his promise he bathed me and marched my now lethargic person off to the great soft bed. After a time he joined me, reclining back against the bountiful pillows and pulling me up and onto his chest. I curled myself against him and nestled in his arms like a small, lost child and listened to beating of his great heart until it's steadiness lulled me into sleep.


	7. Chapter Seven Sun and Storm

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion and more. Stone's movie-verse driven. First ATG fan fic. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

POV: Alexander

Thanks for all the reviews and comments. This as well as other nonsense will be posted on my LJ at Strong PG-17. M/M not too graphic but it's there. If pulled from FFN follow the link to my LJ, which because I am computer stupid is not a true link. Type it in.

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Stones movie verse does.

Chapter Seven

Sun and Storms

We're three days out now, camped in a small lush valley in the mountains. The guides have told us that game is plentiful here and that the cool clear water running in the quick moving creek is good. The place is beautiful. It is to these tawny mountains what Siwa is to the desert.

For his part Hephaistion is still sullen and silent, still keeping himself distanced from me. The hope I held for an easy reconciliation after he allowed me to bath him and hold him while he slept has diminished. I do not think it possible for the man to become any more withdrawn and I am becoming quite afraid that he has simply been too damaged by all of our trials to be healed. We consider ourselves young and strong, invincible and invulnerable to the wounds and traumas we suffer but now after seeing Hephaistion so crushed in the grist mill of my ambition my eyes have been reopened; they have shown me that we are not gods, that our flesh is that of mere men and can be husked from our bones like wheat kernels stripped of their casings when used as fodder for the mill stones of glory. Are we that? Only fodder? Is that how I have treated him? Treated all of them? If only I could, I would beg Hephaestus to create some soul saving armor for Hephaistion. Armor to protect him when the flare of my brightness burns and blinds him. A shield to cover him when he is pinned between the hammer of my duty and the anvil that is wrought of my Companions hate and jealousy. May the gods help me, for if I cannot be his armor, if I cannot be his oasis, a haven of gentle warmth, of light and love I do not know how I will bring him back to me. Even Achilles' armor failed to protect his Patroclus and conversely I have failed to protect my Hephaistion from the brutal malice of my men and my own desires and dreams for him.

Now, sitting here, watching him thrash and writhe trapped yet again in nightmare plagued sleep I fear that I will fail in healing his mind and soul. Crossing the tent I kneel down and grasp his shoulder firmly to rouse him. As I do he sits up suddenly and screams out for, of all things, Bucephelus.

"You were dreaming again Phai." I tell him my voice a whisper soft and comforting. "Lie down my friend and go back to sleep." He nods to me and rubs his stubble covered face in his trembling hands before laying back down. I cover him and cross back to my bedroll. Tomorrow we will ride Bucephelus together. We've not done that since Pella.

Lying awake, I rub my thumb over and over across the stone in the ring that he gave me on my wedding night as I watch him settle back into sleep. The even rise and fall of his chest and the familiar rhythm of his breathing make me miss his presence in my bed so much more acutely. I wish that he'd sleep with me and not so far away. He says he is not ready. Ready. Ready for what Hephaistion? Tears slip down my cheeks. Ready to again love me. Ready to accept my love for you. How long have we been one soul Hephaistion, how long? I bring the ring to my lips and kiss it, how long and what cost?

Morning dawns bright, crisp and clear. A blue wisp cloud dappled sky greets my weary eyes as I exit the tent. Hephaistion has already risen and I can see him seated, not far off, watching the crystalline, silver hued water slip shimmering and mirror like passed in the gurgling creek. Ignoring him I head straight for Bucephelus, with two field packs and two wineskins draped over my shoulder. As I draw near he snorts and silly though it is, I raise a finger to my lips to silence him. He is my second dearest friend, only Hephaistion and Bucephelus hold my complete and unwavering trust and love. Neither has ever let me down and until now neither has ever withheld their love from me.

"Ah my Bucephelus, how will we get our lost Phaistion back, how will we regain his love? He only drifts farther and farther and farther away. Caught in the great boulder born ripple current of my actions called despair. Will he too blind himself as Oedipus did and never again see the beauty that is life and love? You my great Bucephelus must help me today. Help me turn my Hephaistion from this shadow that haunts him, just as I did for you. Help me to turn his face to the sun's warmth and make him great and strong again."

A short time later we sidle up alongside of Hephaistion's hunched form but he is so lost in his water musings that it is a long moment before he takes notice of us. Finally he looks up his clear blue eyes betraying the surprise he feels at suddenly seeing us there. Saying nothing I reach down and offer him my hand in invitation asking only with my eyes letting the special softness, that I show only him, shine from them. He stands slowly and with more stiffness than I'd ever really noticed before and with a sigh he twines his forearm round mine and swings up behind me.

I give Bucephelus his head and let him amble along the edge of the creek. Small groves of trees dot the shore not far up the bank and the only sound breaking our silence is that of Bucephelus' breathing and some native bird. A warbling sound that I find relaxing and somehow homey. Hephaistion has not spoken and I refuse to barter my position and strike up idle chatter with the hard headed fool. Fool, he's no fool and I know that, but my gut tells me to wait him out and make him come to me. I'd placed my hand on his thigh earlier but he pulled away so I backed off. Yes, I'll have to let him come to me.

Near mid-day I hear the distant grumble of thunder from the far side of the mountains. I hate the wait before a storm even more so than the wait before a battle. The insistent rumble sickens my stomach and tweaks my nerves. Gray cotton textured clouds have replaced the white ones of the morning, slipping menacingly over the hilltops and the air is growing cooler with the burgeoning breeze. Turning Bucephelus away from the creek and into the tree line toward the base of the cliff that runs along with the creek. I start singing quietly to ease my worry over the coming storm. Rain was coming and I can only hope for a bit of shelter from its fury.

Why, I do not know, but with the break in the weather came a break in Hephaiston's gloom. I feel his arms come round my waist as he settles his head against my back nestling himself between my shoulder blades. After a short while he raises his head and rests his chin on my left shoulder, his lips too near my ear.

"Why do you still fear it Xander?" Then before I could answer, "Do you recall the last time you sang for me?"

Was I singing for him? Yes, the song I chose was a favorite of his. It had just snuck into my mind and then slipped from my lips. I did remember the occasion. We'd gone riding and…

"My horse fell down that damned scree slope!" He spoke his chin still on my shoulder. "You put him down before I came around. I loved him, he was a gift from my father. Somehow you got us up and onto Oxhead here, me in front and you holding me up. What was it? A broken arm, shoulder and nasty head wound?"

I listened as he recounted the story. He hadn't spoken this many words to me in months. I was ecstatic. Yes, I'd held him and Bucephelus had gotten us home. My memory of the ride intermingled with his retelling of it. I'd started singing to him as night fell and the air had gone horribly cold. He'd shivered violently in my arms and the sound of his teeth chattering was driving me mad. So I sang to him. So long ago that was. So long ago that it seems a memory from another lifetime or that of another man.

I continued to ride paralleling the cliff face in search an overhang or small cave that would keep us a least half dry. Hephaistion just continued talking, his head again resting against my back. The warmth of his body against mine was a distraction, I missed him terribly. A light misty drizzle had begun to fall and I shivered as Hephaistion without warning gathered my hair together in his hand, pushed it aside and gently kissed the back of my neck, his moist lips lingering just long enough and pulling away with a subtle suction and flick of his tongue that flooded me with desire. I couldn't stop the moan that rose from my belly, rumbled like the distant thunder and escaped across my lips. I wanted this ride to bring us together, but now it would seem that things getting quite interesting.

"Phaistion?" I said my voice husky with desire and wonder at his sudden mood change. "Is everything alright Hephaistion?"

I felt his chuckle against my back. He released my hair, smoothed it down and again spoke to me his lips once again near my ear his warm breath, and stubble tickling the side of my neck.

"Yes, Alexander. But they would be better if the Great King could find us a dry place to weather out the coming storm." Again his chuckle warmed my heart as he hugged me tightly around my waist and still leaning in close again whispered in my ear as if his words were a treasure for me alone. The trees were not to hear them, or the clouds, or Oxhead only me. "I love you Alexander and I 'have' missed you." Then he sat up and away from me the sudden loss of the warmth of his body sent a wash of cold down my spine. "Oh and Great King of mine," he placed his left hand on my shoulder and whispered again this time into my right ear. "You passed a wonderful little cave in the cliff face about two hundred feet back from here."

At that I pulled Bucephelus to a halt, twisted around and looked at him my brow furrowed in confusion. The easy smile on his lips brought great joy to my soul. I wanted to kiss him, and hesitated trying to read his thoughts. He leaned forward a little in invitation and I kissed his lips with all the gentleness that I could manage.

"Hephaistion, why in the name of Zeus are you whispering?" At that he burst out laughing and I followed suit.

" Well, we cannot have the whole world knowing that the Great king Alexander was so distracted by a tiny kiss that he failed to complete the 'simple' task of finding a dry place to weather a storm." Our hesitation cost us though as the sky finally released the deluge we'd been waiting for. I turned Bucephelus, nudged him to a canter and headed for the cave Phai found, laughing like little boys as we rode through the torrent.

The cave was narrow but deep, roomy enough for men but poor Oxhead would have to weather the storm. I opened the packs and removed the two large robes I'd brought along as well as the field rations and tinder box. Hephaistion made himself busy hunting about deeper in the dim recesses in hope of finding a bit of dry debris to start a fire. I'd packed enough supplies in the kit bags to stay out for a few days if we chose to. If nothing else I'd learned from my father how to travel light yet well supplied. He returned after a bit with his arms piled high with logs.

"Where did you find those?" I asked jumping to my feet and taking some of the load from his arms. It was a treasure.

"Hunters or shepherds must use this place as shelter, Alexander. Its well stocked with wood, some vats of grain and a cistern that somehow collects water from above. Its remarkable. After we change you must come and see it."

We set about starting the fire and drying our sodden clothes in a companionable silence. The rain still pored down and the thunder pounded the country side but ensconced in our small sanctuary I felt safe and happy for the first time in months. Hephaistion, warmed by the small blaze, had shed his green Persian style tunic and wearing only pants now, worked at softening some of the dried meat that I'd packed. The orange glow illuminated his sun bronzed skin and his hair, still damp and tucked back behind his ears, allowed me an exceptional view of the profile of his face. The tiny smile he wore at just being content with the simple task of cooking eased me heart and warmed my worried soul. I couldn't help but stare at him.

"Zander?" He asked catching me at my musings. "Zander?"

"It's nothing Phai." I reached out and touched his softly stubbed cheek. "Its nothing."

After we ate he took me back and showed me the cisterns and the vats of grain. There were stones for rolling out bread and even an oven carved into the wall. The people who used this place had designed a wonderfully suited shelter. The design captivated Hephaistion's curiosity and love of engineering. He has always been intrigued with the planning and building of things. He lectured about how the oven vented itself upwards through the cracks and how the main cistern remained clear and fresh because it overflowed and ran into an overflow basin, which in turn channeled the old water into a small pool. He figured that one could use the fresh water in the main cistern for cooking and drinking and the secondary pool for washing and bathing and it in turn when over full drained away into a crack in the cave floor. Another separate depression he suggested was an actually bathing tub. Apart from the running stream but near enough to the water source. I watched him as he observed the system, thanks to the rain, working at capacity. His eyes were bright and glad again as he puzzled over the large round stones stored beside the tub and the large heavy leather sling, and tankard kept with them. Finally chilly, I tugged at his hand and we headed back to the fire. Yes the set up was adroit but I could only stand for so much.

We sat side by side shoulder to shoulder leaning against each other and settled into easy and unfocused, and unimportant conversation. The rain still came down and the thunder, while less frequent, still grumbled. Then, in the midst of a recollection of his father's rolling estate and beautiful groves he stopped talking in the middle of a word. Surprised at the sudden cessation of banter I looked over at him. He was staring with unseeing eyes straight ahead at some spot across the cave. I scooted even closer to him and wrapped us both in my robe. I squeezed his hand between mine and leaning forward tried to read his eyes. They were empty. I panicked and cautiously turned him to face me saying quietly, with all the love I could lavish it with, his name over and over. Finally he blinked and shuddered, awareness slowly refilling the blue pools whose color could never be replicated by any artisan. It was a blue that belonged only to him. Unique in it's illumination, it shown with the light of some mysterious unknown but kind god.

I took his face in my hands and kissed him, he returned the kiss and we parted. In the silence I heard Bucephelus snort and stomp. Then I kissed Hephaistion again. He pressed his mouth against mine and fought with my tongue. I was surprised at his roughness. After all that had occurred I had readied myself to be as tender and gentle as possible. He pulled away and the light in his eyes seemed to have changed from soft and longing to angry. It frightened me but before I had time to ponder the sudden flux in his demeanor he crushed our mouths together painfully, cutting my lips with his teeth and grabbing fistfuls of my hair as handholds to press us even closer together. I could taste my blood and gasped into his mouth as he bit into my lower lip.

Pulling away I stared at him, I know that my face registered shock at his behavior. Our lovemaking while often rough never held an aura of anger but now I could feel it radiating from him in waves. His eyes were wild and bore the glaze of battle frenzy. His nostrils were flared like a wild stallion's at stud and his broad chest heaved in great bellowing gasps. As I started to speak he reached out again with his right hand grabbed me by my hair, yanked my head forward wrapping his left behind my head and crushed his mouth against mine again. He choked me with his insistent, probing tongue and tore at my hair, his fingers curled in its thickness incessantly pulling us together. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away. Holding him at arms length.

"Phai, Hephaistion, you are hurting me, Hephaistion." I shuddered incredulously as he laughed and stood up.

"I would never hurt 'you' Alexander." His voice was distant, and menacing.

I was confused we'd gone from tender and gentle to vicious for no apparent reason that I could puzzle out. I stood and stepped closer to him peering at him a bit sideways my head cocked studying the odd set of his shoulders. The stance portrayed both defiance and insecurity at once. He reached out, with an arrogant tilt of his chin, sneered and swiped at the blood seeping from my battered lip with his calloused thumb.

"What is it you need Hephaistion? Tell me." I asked but received no reply. "Apologies Phai? Is that it. By the gods my beloved you have them. You-have-them!"

He stiffened and stepped away from me and toward the cave's entrance. What had gone wrong? What had I done to push him away again? My mind swirled like a dust devil born on the hot winds of the desert. What did I have to do to reach him?

I've made, to my credit, very few absolutely poor decisions in my life. The gods have granted me much grace in this and perhaps I abused their gift. Now, I was about to make another. Following after him I spun him to face me by yanking on his shoulder.

"Hephaistion," I got on my knees and took his hands in mine. "I am sorry for causing you such pain my dear friend. If I had thought for a moment that the gods would vent their fury and vengeance upon 'you' for my misdeeds, would punish me by punishing you…I would have made better choices, kept an even purer, more humble soul Hephaistion…" He yanked his hands from mine and rushed from the sheltering cave.

I followed behind him and grabbed his wrist, again twisting him to face me. The rain pelted us and the thunder mirrored the anger in his now dull and clouded eyes. What light left in them was a blazing fury of anger and hurt that I had no idea how to extinguish.

"The gods! The gods! Have you no sense of self recrimination…no ability to take responsibility for your action when they are not grand and glorious!" He shoved me and advanced, his fists balled and raised, his blue eyes squinting through the rain. "The gods, Alexander did not rape me! Did not leave me to die! Cleitus did! The gods Alexander, did not fuck Bagoas while I was dying in some dry creek bed! Dying as I prayed to a chip of stone round my neck, while rats tried to feed off me, that you would hear my voice and come to me! The gods Alexander did not break a sworn oath between two men who trust as blindly and completely as we did. I have been faithful to you! I trusted you! Have I ever Alexander betrayed our trust, betrayed you? Oh and what a beguiling, one sided trust it has turned out to be! As easily tarnished as the gold of your weighty crown." He shoved me again and suddenly I knew what he wanted. He wanted me not only to share in his pain, but to also give him a excuse to vent his hurt and anger against me. Although he couldn't sense it, I did share in his desperation and loss, and painfully so, but obviously any words that I could muster were not enough to express my empathy.

"Is that what it will take Hephaistion?" I slapped him hard twice, holding back nothing, and he was on me like a wounded boar, all fists and teeth, elbows and feet. He clawed, bit, punched, choked and battered me and I let him for a short while. I would gladly suffer his punishment if it meant that he would again be a part of me. Finally I took the advantage and flipped him over pinning his face sideways in the mud, twisting his free arm enough to cause him pain and hold him still. I was quite willing, at this point, to break it; anything to bring him back to me. In the rain and mud and thunder my childhood taunt had finally come true and Hephaistion was for the first time in our long relationship beaten by me. Leaning down I whispered harshly, but without anger, in his left ear.

"I told you Hephaistion that someday I would beat you, that day has come. You are mine and I am yours, and we are one. Nothing can change that. Not my indiscretions, not Cleitus' abuse or the hate of the others. We are, despite my ambition, despite my failings, 'my failings' Phaistion bound to one another by the gods themselves. Would you cheat them of their sacred workings Hephaistion? Dare to undo what they have wrought between us? Fight me if you will, blood me if you will but no amount of pain that you can inflict upon my body will drive you from my heart.

How many times my Phai have we been parted by battle, or I have I left you behind to fortify towns, make them impregnable? How many times? No matter, it is always the same. We part from one another with such inconsolable desperation and fear that we will never meet again in this life but we always succeed somehow in clinging to each other for as long as possible before that parting; the fruit of our love heavy on the vine called duty that chokes the happiness out of our lives, yet we hold on, staving off the inevitable fall that will finalize it's ripeness. And the cities, your cities are finally constructed and fortified and our reunion once again buttresses our love and bond to one another. I am begging you Hephaistion, pleading with you, do not continue to fortify your heart against my love. Open the gates, and do not fear me! Let me occupy your soul again. You began it today, now finish it…Let this siege be ended Hephaistion…"

He relaxed all at once becoming limp in my grasp. I helped him to stand and ushered him into the cave. We were filthy, wet and cold. I sat him beside the fire and stoked it a bit to bring up the flame.

"Alexander." His voice only a whisper "By the bathing pool, the large round stones, bring them, set them in the fire. Fill the tub using the tankard and put the heated stones in the bath, the water will be warmed for bathing. Use the leather sling to tote them."

Trusting his judgment I did as told. The stones hissed and spat but the water in the pool was warmed and I took him back to the pool and we bathed together. Washing away the mud and the grit of the battle we'd fought. He lazed sleepy eyed in the shallow water, silent and aloof. I washed the mud from his long hair and rubbed the tension from his shoulders. Cleansed we made our way wrapped in dry warm robes back to our fire. I'd set out the extra blankets that I'd packed and we stretched out side by side in the fires warmth. The rain had stopped and the night was filled with only the songs of a choir of discordant crickets.

For a long while I stayed away from him unsure of his needs and desires. I was certain though of mine and selfish as it may be I gave in to my loneliness and rolled closer to him. I stroked first his cheek and then his chest. I kissed him softly my battered lips not up for much more, starting at his neck and journeying down and onto his stomach. He pulled me back toward his face and ran his fingers soothingly over my torn mouth. He started to speak but I shushed him with a kiss. Our tongues again tangled but he was wary of my wounds and gentle beyond all reason.

I had to have him. My heart was a tympani drumming insanely against my ribs in an attempt to escape my chest. I stretched myself out atop him and stared into the blue depth of his eyes.

"I want…to be inside you, Hephaistion."

He tensed a little and his eyes betrayed his confusion. We'd never done this before. He had always topped me. I'd never had any desire to do otherwise.

"Why now Alexander?"

I studied his face, and rubbed the full length of my body hungrily against his. Indeed, why now?

"As 'your' Alexander I intend to reclaim that which is mine."

"I am not a country Alexander, I am a man." To this I smiled and sitting up a bit studied his chest.

"You seem quite country-like to me sir." I stroked his hardened nipples "These monuments that stand upon duel plateaus." I sucked his right nipple into my mouth, "Achilles' here." Then shifting, I grazed my fingers lightly across his chest and I nibbled the left. "Patroclus', here." He sighed as I pulled away. "Ah and what is this, a valley?" Sliding down his torso I slid my tongue down the shallow cleft of his chest and down to his taut, muscled stomach. " A valley running down into such lovely rolling hills." I tickled his stomach with feather fingers and my lips. "Oh and here, a deep water lake." I swirled my tongue into and around his navel, he arched his hips moaning at my ministrations. "What is this? I rasped my finger nails slowly along the length of his hardness. Then I licked my fingers, stroked him slowly and blew gently on his dampened erection. It twitched at the cool brush of air. "Ah, my dear Hephaistion, you've gone and erected a monument for me, I see." I looked up at his face, a wicked smile twisting my lips, and was overjoyed to once again see pleasure upon it. "Celebrating what my love? My success at breaching your fortress' walls and sacking your heart."

He grasped my hair, but gently now, and pulled upward so that we were face to face. He kissed me tenderly, wary of my lips, as he kneaded my neck and shoulders. He squirmed beneath me.

"Patience sweet Hephaistion, Tyre stood for seven months. Will you forsake your competitive nature for a quick culmination of this standoff?"

Gasping he answered me. "I'll not resist you any longer, my mighty Alexander." Gods his voice was wrought with such passion and need the sound of it nearly drove me to completion without being touched. "My country and my heart is and will forever be yours for the taking. Just do not be too slow about it, Tyre aside, 'we' have been apart for far too long."

Conceding to his wishes I took him. How different it was to be in control of this act, this display of love and trust. I nurtured him, overcome by the wash of his ardor. I prepared him and joined with him as he had me for so many years. It strengthened our bond and our love. It helped sooth the pain of his torture under Cleitus' hand, it made him brave and strong and confident again. I had him back. We slept little that long night. Instead we shared each other again and again. Comforted each other with touches and kisses and words. I let him know that my heart had had been as broken as his when I married. He recounted the nightmare of Cleitus' attack. We'd battered our way into and out of each others hearts in that warm dry shepherds cave high in the mountains miles, and miles and miles and a lifetime from where our love had been born. We were as it will always be, one soul again.


	8. Eight Effects

Author: Rothalion

Title: Shadowboxing

Summery: Alexander reflecting on Hephaistion and more. Stone's movie-verse driven. First ATG fan fic. An expansion of Cleitus punching Hephaistion at the banquet before the wedding. I love that scene. Not sure where it will go just yet, it's already growing far larger than planned.

POV: Hephaistion. This is an unexpected chapter brought about by research for an unrelated character. Cleitus will be raging in the next Chapter. This tale will be a bit longer than I thought I guess. Please bear with me.

Thanks for all the reviews and comments. This as well as other nonsense will be posted on my LJ at Strong PG-17. M/M not too graphic but it's there. If pulled from FFN follow the link to my LJ, which because I am computer stupid is not a true link. Type it in.

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Stone's movie verse does.

Damn the gods it has happened again! As I lie here, held a prisoner of whatever sickness has attacked me, my muscles still twitching slightly I try in vain to bring awareness to my blurry brain. I try to recall my last actions before the horrible spasms took control of my body again. Council meeting, visited the stable…yes that big brute of a bastard, Attalus' man, the one I'd tangled with at the wedding ceremony all those years ago, yes, he'd confronted me in the stable. I could not believe that the oaf was still around. We'd exchanged words and blows and I'd returned to my room after knocking him senseless. He should have taken heed. I am no longer the tall, skinny, untried young man of Pella that he gathered so effortlessly into his crushing arms to keep me from getting at master. Now the cold floor numbs my bones and blood seeps from the gash in my scalp where my head has slammed against the stone driven by my spasms.

I have to talk to Alexander. He has seen this new weakness of mine, on two occasions, and though it terrifies him he refuses to discuss it with me. I haven't the heart to tell him that it's happened more then just a handful of times. He will have to understand my request. I cannot lead men into battle if I have to fear slipping into some uncontrollable fit, a general cannot be plagued by the fear of seizing up and lead a charge. These fits aside, there are the missing chunks of time that plague me as well. Time that slips passed without my knowledge. As though I have drifted off to sleep in the middle of what I am doing. No Alexander, you cannot ignore this, you must help me to figure it out. If only you had the time.

I push weakly up to a sitting position and drawing my knees up I drape my arms across them and take some deep breaths to get control. His voice startles me and I flinch at his unseen entry.

"Phai!" And he is kneeling at my side, one hand on my heaving chest and his other checking the wound to my head. His face twisted with worry "Hephaistion? Cleitus!"

"No." Although my voice sounds good inside my head it is thick and hoarse to the ear. I cough to clear my throat but it does little good. "No, the seizure again, get me up."

He helped me to the edge of my bed and went for some water, and a cloth for my head. Now he would have to listen. Listen and see that all was not well with me for some reason. Had not been well since Cleitus' attack, it was just after that when these attacks had begun. He left me and sent for a doctor. Weak and disgusted with myself I stretched out on the bed and awaited his return. I had hoped that after we returned from our time in the mountains that these fits would pass. We'd talked and talked about Cleitus and Roxane and any other thing that had come between us over these last long years on the march. Talking was a salve for my heart and just having him as mine and mine and mine alone for endless hours was a comfort I had thought to never have again. Bolstered, I returned and leapt back into my work with a renewed vigor, and now just weeks later this again.

"Hephaistion, I've brought Glaucus, now let him tend your wound, come now roll over, no lie down, just roll over that's it. That's it."

I could hear him padding to and fro as Glaucus cleared the hair from the wound and threw a few sutures in it. He bade me to sit up but slowly and wrapped a clean strip of linen round my head to bandage it.

"I need not warn you to keep it clean, you've both enough knowledge of healing from Aristotle to know that. Now what happened boy?" He demanded pushing me back down onto my pillow and sitting down in the chair that Alexander had pulled up for him. He always made me feel like a child and that alone was cause enough not to get wounded.

Alexander sat down near my head and rubbed his hand soothingly across my chest. I looked up at him self-conscious of his gentle touch in front of another and then back to Glaucus, who snorted and shook his frizzy white haired head in annoyance.

"It's no camp secret about you two, Hephaistion! Now out with it youngster, what ails you?"

I told them as best that I could. The first time, it had occurred. In the stables at the site of a rat skittering passed my feet. The second time after I'd returned to my room the night of Alexander's wedding after giving him the ring. The third after Cleitus had whispered in my ear a threat against my father back in Pella. One time out on a patrol a week ago. I'd fallen from my horse caught off guard by it. It was long moments before I could remount and rejoin the fight. I told it all. The drifting off in the meetings and at other odd times. All of it.

"The Sacred Disease, Hippocrates has written a great deal about it. There must be some demon the gods feel a need to purge from your soul dear Hephaistion."

"Demons, I've done nothing Alexander, nothing! What would demons want with my soul? Zander!" Now I sounded like a petulant child and Glaucus smiled a bit at that.

"Shh, Phaistion, shh. Is there nothing to be done to stop it Glaucus?"

"Root out the demons Alexander, drive them away. It is often not the victim who has committed the act my good Hephaistion, but that some act has been perpetrated upon the victim."

He patted my shoulder and looked sternly into Alexander's eyes as if telling him some unspoken secret. I can read my love's eyes as well as the page of a scroll and I saw the unspoken agreement he passed on to the doctor. They walked away, Glaucus telling Alexander to make sure that I got a bit of rest.

Alexander came back and sat beside me. "I want to stay with you tonight."

"But…"

"A banquet." He looked ashamed. "Can you come Hephaistion? Sit at my couch. Are you too spent? Then I am all yours."

"No, Alexander I'll be there."

Our conversation was stilted and forced. Not the easy dialogue between friends let alone lovers. What was he afraid of? My heart was tight and fear shot through my soul. Was I dying? Would I leave him alone.

"Alexander, what's wrong with me?" My eyes demanded his honesty, my soul needed it, yet my logical self feared the answer. "Alexander, please."

He brushed a firm but gentle hand back across my brow and ran his fingers through my hair avoiding the bandage.

"Phai, Cleitus must be gotten rid of. Glaucus thinks so, and well so do I…he is a reminder…and the reminder causes you well, anxiety, and that brings on these fits. He is your demon."

"No, I'll not burden you with that Alexander, I'll come to terms with him. Just free my hand in it. You are beholding to him, the gods. Alexander give him a…a….Satrapy, yes a Satrapy somewhere far away, remote. An honor yet it keeps him clear of me! Say Bactria. We are leaving for India soon leave him here."

Note/Hephaistion is suffering from Non-Epileptic seizures brought about by sever physical and emotional trauma. He is plagued by both Absence seizures and Clonic Tonic seizures. Hippocrates wrote about Seizures calling them the Sacred Disease, and claiming that they were an attempt by the gods to rid a person of demons. My medical knowledge is limited and still under research so any corrections are welcome./


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